Mirrors to her soul,
are a faded blue.
Thin snowing hair,
is all askew.
Those watery eyes,
weakened by spotlight.
Reminisce fondly, sadly,
of opening night.
Flower strewn stage,
hands curtain applause.
Many curtain calls,
crowded stage doors.
Sees beauty vanished,
heart grows cold.
Once was young,
now she is old.
Then "Yees, I am She,"
to herself a laugh.
They do remember,
signs her autograph.
